


Coffee Grounds

by orphan_account



Category: Free!
Genre: M/M, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-06 20:35:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4235727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being hit on at work isn't a fun experience--especially when the customer is being pushy and you can't get away or tell them to leave. It's happened to Haruka Nanase more times than he could count, so when he's in line at a local coffee shop and he sees the barista getting harassed, well. It's only right for him to put a stop to it. </p><p>He didn't count on coming back to that coffee shop, or on seeing that barista outside of his workplace, or on sharing a class with him. And he certainly didn't count on falling for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coffee Grounds

**Author's Note:**

> I saw a post on tumblr that was mentioning how creepy it is to hit on someone while they're at work. The first thing that popped into my mind was Makoto being hit on at work and unable to get them to leave... and Haru coming to his defense even if they were strangers. And thus this AU was born.

Haruka Nanase wasn’t a coffee-person. Generally speaking, he got enough sleep, had plenty of energy through the day, and if he needed caffeine, he’d go with tea. However, finals week was getting to him, so the morning after his first all-nighter, he bit the bullet and went to a nearby coffee-shop to get anything that’d keep him awake for the rest of the day.

However, the line was about ten people longer than he would’ve liked.

Patient as Haru could be, long lines weren’t his style. Especially when he got trapped behind people who couldn’t _just shut up already_.

It was probably just his tired brain, but he was finding it incredibly difficult to think decent thoughts about the people who surrounded him in line. Particularly the girls in front of him—and especially with their choice of topic.

“Did you see the new barista?” one girl whispered to her friend, giggling already.

Her friend sighed, positively drooling. “Look at him, I bet he’s an athlete.”

“With those muscles? I bet you’re right! I’d totally go for a guy like that…”

“Ask him for his number when you order your coffee!”

“Maybe I’ll just order him instead.”

Haru felt a headache coming on and closed his eyes, praying that he wouldn’t end up yelling at the pair. The barista—tall, brown-haired, cheerful—attractive as he was, wasn’t a piece of meat. It was one thing to quietly appreciate an attractive person, but to ask him out when he was on the job?

Maybe it was just because Haru worked part time as a receptionist for his university’s gym and had to deal with a mix of guys and girls ogling him while he scanned their ID cards, but he could sympathize with this guy. It wasn’t fun to have people stare at you and giggle and ask you out in a place where you could get fired for rejecting them too harshly. After all, when you were at work and paid to be nice to people, if your manager found out that you upset a customer—even if that customer had been inappropriate with you—then you could potentially have a pay cut, or even be fired if your manager wasn’t the understanding type.

So when the girls kept up their conversation until they were third and line—and Haru, fourth—he had to fight hard to keep his expression neutral.

However, they seemed to have calmed down by the time they ordered because their conversation died into a whisper then died out entirely.

Haru was relieved beyond belief—because maybe, _maybe_ they’d finally decided not to harass the poor guy. Or maybe they’d just ‘chickened out’ and were too scared to do it. Whatever the reason, he’d be grateful for it if it meant he wouldn’t have to hear two teenage girls ask out a guy who was just paid to serve customers.

But, as it turned out, his relief was misplaced.

Sure enough, when they got to the front of the line the first girl leaned against the counter, arms crossed with her breasts resting on them—right, because that was the proper way to hit on someone even if they were _interested_ —and smiled what Haru was sure she thought was a flirtatious smile. “Hey, handsome. Are the coffees here as sweet as your smile?”

The guy behind the counter—who looked about Haru’s age—turned a rapid pink. Haru was pretty sure his nametag read ‘Tachibana.’ “Oh—um, if you’re looking for something sweet, we have plenty of sweet drinks! Ah, there’s iced coffee, some different types of mochas…”

Girl number two leaned in and took a similar pose as her friend. “I’ll take a sweet drink,” she said, actually winking at him. “Tall. Something… strong, maybe.” She was definitely eyeing his muscles, and Haru could see the barista turning redder than before. Either this was the first time this had happened, or he was easily embarrassed… maybe both.

“I—Um—There are some good chocolate drinks. I’m fond of the white chocolate mocha, myself. Our iced coffee is very good, though. Did you want something cold?” Tachibana’s voice was carefully cheerful, almost too much so, and Haru could hear the strain on his voice.

“No, no, definitely something hot,” girl one said, then turned to her friend. “What about you?”

“Something hot for me, too.” She leaned even closer, keeping her voice low and husky. “Maybe with a phone number on it. What do you say, handsome?”

Just as Tachibana opened his mouth to remind them of the drink menu, Haru decided he wasn’t going to deal with this. He’d had too many girls—and some guys, even—hit on him while he worked. He would have appreciated someone coming to his aid those times, and he knew this guy would probably appreciate that, too.

“Place your orders and move on.”

The girls turned and stared at him, one pouting and the other looking somewhat agitated. “Excuse me,” one said, looking up at him. “We waited in line just as long as you did. Just wait a minute. It’s his job to serve us,” she said, throwing a flirtatious smile at the poor barista before turning back to Haru. “So you can wait just a minute, can’t you?”

“It’s his job to serve you,” Haru agreed, voice flat as ever. “Not anything else. He’s paid to be nice to customers, but he doesn’t have to put up with this. Order your drinks and move on.”

Girl number two crossed her arms, looking outright angry now. “He’s blushing,” she said, gesturing back to Tachibana, who looked like he wanted to crawl away and die. “He likes it. Who are you to step in, anyways?”

“Just because someone’s blushing doesn’t mean they’re interested. It means they’re _embarrassed_.” Haru let out a long sigh, closing his eyes and counting to five slowly, so he wouldn’t lose control of himself. “Order your drinks or I’m going to get management to throw you out. If you’re not here to order drinks, you don’t need to be here.”

Girl number one pulled on her friend’s arm, whispering something like “it’s not worth it”—the prospect of getting thrown out was always a good deterrent. Though Haru had faced enough managers to know that not all of them would have taken their employee’s side.

The girls finally placed their orders, a still red-faced Tachibana keeping his eyes down as he punched their orders into the cash register and handed them their receipt. The pair finally moved on after getting their receipt and paying, and Haru sighed with relief when it was finally, finally, his turn to order his coffee.

Haru ended up ordering the simplest thing on the menu, but just as he got out his wallet to pay, Tachibana shook his head. “It’s on me. I—I want to thank you. For that.” He looked away, finally seeming more composed. “It happens all the time, but no one’s ever really put a stop to it. My manager usually steps in if it gets bad, but she’s not here today. So… thank you.”

“Oh.” Haru blinked, a little surprised, and hesitantly put his wallet back. “Welcome. I’m a swimmer who works at my school’s gym.” He answered as if that really explained it, then, at Tachibana’s confused expression, elaborated. “I get people who come in and hit on me a lot. When I’m working I’m not allowed to reject them like I want to. I would appreciate someone to get them to stop, so I figured… you might appreciate that, too.”

Tachibana smiled—a real, honest smile, not the customer-service smile he’d had on earlier. “I do—I really do appreciate that.” He seemed flustered for just a moment, then laughed and looked away. “Well, um, I’ll leave you to your coffee. Come again!”

Later, as Haru walked to his first class, coffee in hand, he couldn't get that barista out of his head. However, he wasn't about to go back and ask for his number--he'd just saved him from having to deal with customers who'd done such a thing. So he simply walked away, a faint thought in his mind that maybe, just maybe, he'd come back to this coffee shop from time to time. Just to get a coffee, of course--and maybe to make sure that barista was still alright. No ulterior motives whatsoever.


End file.
